


Tumbling After

by Caro (thestarsexist)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Related, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-30
Updated: 2006-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsexist/pseuds/Caro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John deals with some unexpected consequences of their stay with Ford's men. Post-Hive fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumbling After

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lenore for making me finish this and then betaing.

He doesn't get it the first time. They're in the infirmary, going over an unofficial account of events with Elizabeth. The official briefing isn't until later, but neither Ronon nor Teyla are going to be able to attend that. Carson believes the detox will only take a couple more days, but right now, they are in bad shape. John's explaining to Weir how it came to this when Rodney interrupts.

"Wait, they fell? When you had to rematerialize them in the Hive?" Rodney asks, and John stops mid-narration.

"Yeah. _Not_ like I did it on purpose," John adds, still feeling a little defensive because he hadn't necessarily cared when they actually died. Well, he had, but mostly because for a terrifying second he feared that he'd dropped Ronon or Teyla off the precipice.

"Of course not." Rodney dismisses John with a wave of his hand. "Who fell?"

"Um—" John has to think about it.

"Your friend fell," Teyla says from her bed, surprising John. Her voice is a pathetic croak, none of her usual charm and grace. "Jace was one of the men who fell."

"Not exactly a friend," Rodney replies, but his voice is grave and John's confused, because _friend_?

"Better than being fed on by the Wraith, I suppose."

"Quite," Teyla replies, reaching out her hand to squeeze Rodney's. John has an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach like when the Dart stopped responding to his commands and went on auto-pilot. He thinks it might be fear except it makes no sense to be afraid _now_.

He's about to ask them what's going on when Ronon jerks violently in his bed, knocking over a tray. Everyone mobilizes to make sure the restraints hold and to sedate him if need be. When he calms down, Carson turns and apologizes to them all, reminding them that the enzyme withdrawal was never meant to be a fun process.

Teyla grimaces. "It is unnerving to know we are not in control of our actions."

"Tell me about it," Rodney says. "Although, I have to admit, you're doing the stoic and brave patient act a hell of a lot better than I did."

John laughs. "Small children do stoic and brave better than you," he teases, grinning when Rodney scowls at him.

"Aye," Carson agrees. "But this one time, Rodney, I think you might be forgiven. Death's door has a way of bringing even the bravest man to his knees."

That's the first time John learns just how Rodney escaped from Ford's men and how close he actually came to death's door, He forgets to ask Rodney about Jace, because he's too busy yelling at him for being so stupidly brave, and Rodney's calling him all sorts of names, and Carson's kicking them both out of the infirmary.

Later, at the official briefing, he's telling the story, looking right at Rodney when he talks about the Hive ship. It only takes a second this time to click, a slight grimace on Rodney's face that gives him away, and all of a sudden John _knows_.

That uneasy feeling in his stomach might just be here to stay.

***

He thought he was doing a good job. The circumstances were far from ideal, what with his entire team on the enzyme, and the DHD crystals missing, but he really thought that they were going to get out of it. And maybe even bring Ford back. He'd been so focused on that, that maybe he let a couple of things slip. Definitely let a couple of things slip if Teyla knew what had gone on with Rodney and Jace, and he hadn't known. Hadn't even had a clue.

He'd seen Rodney on the enzyme, twitchy and anxious, and barely able to control his impulses. He'd assumed asking Ford to dial back the enzyme would be enough, would get Rodney back on track. He'd been ready and willing to offer Rodney up to fix the Dart. What else had he offered him up for?

He doesn't want to know, but he has to ask. Has to find out, and that's why he's here, late at night after most of Atlantis is already tucked away but there's still the glow of a solitary laptop in the lab.

"We need to talk," he announces, marching in. Rodney jerks in his lab chair, nearly topples over, but John puts his hand behind the chair to steady him.

"Colonel," Rodney says, with a frown. "Is there a reason you're trying to kill me?"

"No new reason," John says, with a smile that's patently false. Rodney must realize this because he opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but then gives John a look and nods.

"Give me a second to save my work, will you?" he says, clicking buttons on his laptop. John stands aside so Rodney can push himself off his chair. By what seems to be an unspoken mutual agreement, they both head out of the lab, ducking into an alcove.

"Now what seems to be so important that you had to interrupt my work?" Rodney asks, once he's assured himself of the privacy of their surroundings.

"You slept with him!" John shouts, and then grimaces at his tone.

Rodney blinks rapidly. "Excuse me?"

John scrubs a hand across his face. "Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"You didn't?"

"Well, maybe I did, but I didn't mean to sound like that."

"How exactly did you mean it to sound?" Rodney asks snidely.

"Something not like that."

Rodney gives him a look. "You're just firing on all cylinders today, aren't you?"

"Mckay..." John takes a deep breath. It won't help matters to get irritated with Rodney. "Look, I suspect something happened between you and Ford's man. I thought we should discuss it."

For a second, Rodney looks vaguely uncomfortable. Then he straightens himself up, crosses his arms in front of him, and gives John a challenging stare. "I'm not entirely sure what business that is of yours. And frankly, aren't you supposed to not _ask_ about these things?"

John rolls his eyes. "You're a civilian. It hardly applies."

"Lucky me," Rodney mutters. "And we're back to what business is it of yours?"

"Rodney."

"Fine. Yes. Yes, I had sex with Jace. Happy now?"

"Not entirely," John says grimly. He's not happy. He's far from happy.

Rodney sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "What exactly do you want?"

"To find out how it happened would be a good start."

"Like what? Diagrams?"

"No!" John says quickly. He swears that his voice did not squeak, although the tight smile that Rodney's giving him says otherwise, and he knows he's blushing. "I just wanted to make sure that you weren't, um, compromised."

"Compromised?" Rodney starts to ask, and then his mouth rounds into an "o" as he realizes what John means. He rolls his eyes and this time it's a reassuring gesture. "Colonel, don't worry. It was sex. It was consensual on both sides. Trust me. As you said before, I'm not stoic about being hurt."

"Good. Good." Now that his worst fear has been assuaged, John feels awkward.

"It was just the Wraith enzyme. You know that, right? I mean, it didn't make me gay or anything—that honor goes to Bobby Newbert in high school. He was dumb but really hot—I think that's where my thing for dumb blondes comes from..."

"McKay—" John warns, because really, the compendium of Rodney's gay sexual history isn't what he came for, and Rodney blushes as he realizes that he's gone off on a tangent.

"Anyway, but the sex," he says quickly, "that was just you know, a response to the drug. Adrenaline."

"Fuck or fight."

"And you've seen how good I am at fighting."

John chuckles. "You're not all that bad, McKay."

"Yeah, well I still prefer to go with my strengths," Rodney says, waggling his eyebrows. It takes a second for John to realize that he's talking about sex, and then John curses himself for going there because all he can suddenly think about is Rodney. And sex. Rodney having sex. And wow, that's certainly not something he should be thinking about Rodney.

"I, uh, have to go," he says lamely.

Rodney sighs, mouth quirking into a familiar downturn, but he says nothing as John walks away.

***

John knows he's being a jerk. It's the why he can't figure out. Military mindset isn't something anyone's ever really accused him of, and he's never been the kind of person to judge another based on who they're sleeping with. As far as John is concerned, that's strictly personal business.

And it's not like he's entirely surprised that Rodney's...well, okay, maybe he is. He's just amazed that Rodney's never said anything before, considering his penchant for spilling out personal information in routine conversations, but he also remembers that Rodney's been working with the military for a long time. He can understand why this is one of those things that Rodney doesn't choose to share.

He wants to be cool with it, because he really, really is. Even if he's not acting like it right now. It's just he can't seem to stop thinking about it, thinking about Rodney with Jace, doing things together, to each other. These mental pictures assault him at the oddest times. Rodney will be explaining something, using his hands to gesture as he always does, and John will wonder what other things those hands did. Or they'll be in the mess, and Rodney will be enthusiastically enjoying a cup of coffee, except now the sounds he makes strike John as less amusing and more pornographic.

Or there was the incident three days ago.

It was a routine training session. Rodney was whining about how very unnecessary it was and how he was a scientist not a grunt, but he was actually doing well. And possibly, John had let his guard down too much, lulled into a false sense of security by Rodney's complaints, because the next thing he knew, Rodney had actually done something with his feet, and John was down on the mat, with Rodney looming over him, pinning him down with sweaty hands.

Rodney had gloated, his face breaking into a wide grin, and John, who'd actually been ridiculously pleased, had looked up, meeting Rodney's gaze and...everything stopped. The teasing comment he'd come up with died on his lips, his concentration shot by Rodney's flushed skin, the short little pants of breath against his skin, Rodney's fingers digging into his wrists. He'd thought, _this is what Rodney looked like, this is what Rodney looked like when he was with Jace_. That sucked the breath out of him, leaving him cold. He rolled away, putting distance between them immediately, leaving before Rodney could ask him what was wrong.

He hasn't seen Rodney since then. He'd almost be impressed with his own stealth if it weren't for the fact that after two days of complete radio silence he's fairly sure Rodney's avoiding him just as much.

***

The mission briefing is tense. They can't actually avoid each other when they're in the same room, but damned if Rodney isn't trying. He's not rude to John. In fact, it's the opposite. He's painfully polite, and somehow that's the biggest indicator to everyone that there's something wrong between them. John spends the meeting trying to avoid Elizabeth's probing gaze, but when the meeting breaks up, she asks him to stay behind anyway.

"John," she starts, and he heads her off at the pass.

"It's fine. We'll work it out," he says before she can ask questions he isn't ready to answer.

She gives him an assessing glance, and then nods curtly. "See that you do."

He leaves the briefing room intent on finding Rodney. He does want to work it out, because this current situation is ridiculous. They're a team and a good one at that. He's not losing the best damn group of people he's ever worked with because of something he can't even understand.

Not to mention the fact that he just plain misses Rodney, even if that's something he would never admit out loud. He's gotten used to having Rodney by his side, relying on him, both of them bouncing ideas off each other. And yes, sometimes Rodney drives him crazy, but John also has more fun with him than just about anyone else in the galaxy, two galaxies even.

Tracking down Rodney proves more difficult that John anticipates. There seems to be ten thousand things that Rodney has to do before they actually go through the Stargate, and he ignores John completely while he does them. Besides, the control room feels much too crowded to get into this conversation. It's not until they land on S38-4XK that he gets a chance to catch Rodney alone.

"Can we talk?"

"About the strange readings I'm getting? Absolutely," Rodney says, resolutely not looking up from his datapad.

"Not just about that. Look, I'm sorry if I made you feel weird. I didn't mean to," John says, and then because it's his job, "strange readings?"

"Faint energy signatures. There are two distinct sources, one's coming from there," he waves his hand in a general westward direction, "and the other from there," pointing to another location fifty meters south of the first.

"So we split up?"

"Would seem to be the best idea." He glances up at John then. "And also, apology not accepted."

John sighs. He should have known that it wouldn't be that easy. "Come on, Rodney."

"Come on, nothing. What? I should be grateful that you've suddenly grown as a person and can what? Stand to be around me? Won't have a bunch of buddies beat me up in a dark alley?"

"Rodney, I would never—you know I'm not—it's just—" The explanations won't come, not in the face of Rodney's anger, which is sharper than John ever expected. Part of him is almost a little awed.

"And don't give me any excuses about growing up military. You're an intelligent man. You're better than that. I—" and it's like Rodney's anger suddenly deflates. He hitches a breath and looks John squarely in the eyes. What John sees is a hundred times worse than simple anger.

"I expected better of you," Rodney says, and the quiet hurt behind it makes John's stomach hurt.

"I'm sorry," John says, sincerely.

"Me too," Rodney says, before turning around and walking away, eyes firmly on the scanner in his hand.

"I can go with Doctor McKay today," Teyla pipes up behind him. It's obvious from the tone in her voice that she's heard everything, and her eyes, when he meets them, are laced with sympathy.

"No." He shakes his head, refusing to take the easy way out. "I'll stay with Rodney. You and Ronon check out the second site."

He tells them to stay in contact, gives them their instructions, and splits up the team. Rodney is back to giving him the silent treatment. John sighs and idly wonders if things could get much worse.

An hour later, they do.

***

When he wakes up, Rodney is petting his face. He's so surprised that it takes him a second to notice that he's horizontal, or the fact that, _ow_ , whatever he's lying on is not comfortable.

"Rodney?" he says, and then winces at how loud his voice sounds to his ears.

Rodney's hands immediately stop. "Colonel? Oh, thank God," he mutters, shining a flashlight right into John's eyes.

"What happened?" John asks, pushing the light away so it doesn't blind him. He takes in their surroundings—dark, dark, rocks, cavernous walls—and recalls the ground giving away and then darkness. "We fell?"

"You fell."

"And you just came tumbling after?"

"Something like that."

"Way out?"

"Only that way." Rodney points the flashlight to the hole in the ceiling, presumably where they fell through.

"Radios?"

"Nothing but static."

"Ronon and Teyla will come looking for us when we don't check in."

John tries to sit up, but Rodney growls and pushes him back down. "Not so fast there. I haven't even had a chance to check out your injuries."

"Rodney, I'm fine," he says, and it seems to actually be true. Sure, his head hurts a bit, and he's probably bruised in a thousand places, but his body's not giving him any indication that it's anything serious.

"Because you'd admit it if you were actually injured."

John starts to protest, to say that he knows better than to hide injuries, but Rodney's hand slips under his shirt, sweeping over his ribs, and it makes him suck in his breath. His fingers scrabble over Rodney's hand, stilling them.

"What?" Rodney begins, impatient, before he tenses and pulls away from John. "Don't worry, Colonel. I was only checking for injuries. I wasn't molesting you."

"Dammit, Rodney," John snaps. "Stop thinking I'm an asshole."

"Well, stop being one," Rodney retorts.

"I'm not!" he shouts. "I'm not. This is just a little...weird for me."

"Because I fuck men."

"No." John sighs, exasperated. "That has nothing to do with it."

"Are you sure? Because it's really not your business. You don't see me going crazy every time _you_ make nice with the natives, do you?"

John's a little amazed that Rodney can say that with a straight face, but revisionist history aside, he just wants them to get past this.

"This wasn't making nice with the natives. This was being held captive and you were drugged, all of which happened on my watch."

"Sheppard, I told you. I wasn't hurt. It wasn't. I needed—I couldn't focus—and Jace was—"

"You call _him_ by his name."

"Excuse me?" Rodney sounds confused.

"You didn't even know him," John says, the words coming out in a rush, and he thinks that maybe he should shut up. He should shut up before he says something that will make this worse. "You call him by his name and he wasn't even, he wasn't even... _anyone_ and you, you, still went to him. You were upset when you found out he died."

"Well, forgive me if I'm not such an asshole that I don't feel bad that someone I was intimate with died."

"I was right there, Rodney. Why didn't you come to me? Why wasn't it me?" And _wow_ , there is it. The thing that John didn't even know he wanted.

"John. Oh God, you _idiot_. That's what this has been about?" He laughs, and John looks up, confused, because he never expected Rodney to laugh at him.

"Rodney?"

Rodney settles down in front of him, leaning into his personal space. He reaches out and squeezes John's thigh.

"I couldn't. Not with you. Not _like_ that. That was—" He gestures with his hand. "I couldn't use you like that."

"I wouldn't have minded."

"I didn't know that," Rodney says slowly. It's his _you're not very clever and I'm trying to be as patient as possible_ voice, and it makes John smile, mostly because Rodney's never been good at patience.

"And even if I'd known, I wouldn't have wanted us to be—You're more."

"More?"

"John, you know I car—"

John leans forward, cuts Rodney off, and it's good, Rodney's voice disappearing into his mouth. He pushes Rodney down, to the ground, and something inside John's brain screams, _finally finally, this is what I've been trying to tell you!_

He licks his way into Rodney's mouth, tracing edges of teeth and behind his lips, just tasting Rodney everywhere, and thinking _mine. God. Mine._ If the broken sounds that Rodney is making are any indication, Rodney agrees.

John pushes down, rubs his body against Rodney's despite the weak protest from his ribs, and God, it's _good_. John can't believe he spent so much time imagining Rodney with Jace, thinking about the two of them together, and never considered what it would feel like to be pressed against Rodney this way. To have Rodney respond to _him_ , fueled by nothing but actual desire.

He pushes Rodney's jacket off, pushes his shirt up, needing to touch skin, taste it. He's leaning down, kissing, biting, feeling Rodney's heartbeat against his face. Rodney alternates between laughing, and moaning, and saying, "slow down, slow down" and "ow, those are rocks under me you know." But he doesn't stop touching John at all.

Together they manage to get Rodney's shirt off, and then John's when Rodney protests that he's being unfair. Touching Rodney like this, skin against skin, John thinks it just might be the best thing ever.

He revises that when Rodney slips his hand into John's pants, sliding inside his boxers to circle around his cock. He moans and pushes himself into Rodney's hand. Rodney smirks, but doesn't tease. His other hand pushes at John's pants until John gets the hint and lifts up so that Rodney can push them down around his knees. This time, he's the one to insist on equal nakedness, so they have to push Rodney's pants down as well. Rodney makes little impatient noises when John moves away so he can look at Rodney and pulls him back so he can take them both in his hand. His rhythm is perfect, just this side of too fast, and John couldn't last if he tried. He comes with a loud gasp, Rodney chanting "John, John, John" in his ear.

***

"So," Rodney says, pushing past John to enter his room. It's much later, and they've been rescued and brought back to Atlantis. Carson had tsk'd when he saw their bruises, but no one was bloody or broken. In Carson's book that counted as a good day. John's book, too. It hadn't been a complete waste of a trip, either. Once Teyla and Ronon had rescued them, they'd managed to find the source of the power readings, and it turned out to warrant further investigation. There was already a return mission planned.

"It turns out that you're not an asshole after all."

"Told you so," John replies, but without any heat. He's still rather mellow—amazing what an orgasm can do to relieve tension.

"You are, however, one jealous bitch."

"Hey!"

"Don't deny it. It won't do you any good." Rodney sounds, well, smug, and ordinarily John would do his best to take that self-satisfied smirk off his face, but today, John thinks he's earned the right to gloat.

So he walks over instead, places a hand on Rodney's hip and watches as his smug expression turns really, really pleased.

"I guess you shouldn't go around sleeping with any more scientists on our missions," he drawls, leaning in to nuzzle Rodney's neck.

"Only if you promise the same."

"Sure, Rodney. I promise you're the only _scientist_ I'll sleep with."

It's too much fun to wind Rodney up, to watch him sputter and then kiss away his frown. Maybe Rodney's still calling him an idiot as they tumble into bed together, but he's holding on, and for the first time in days, John feels like he can breathe.

(end)


End file.
